


not an inexplicable change

by Anonymous



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Aprons, Belly Rubs, Feeding, Feeding Kink, Fetish, Force-Feeding, Kink Meme, M/M, Stuffing, Weight Gain, jus a lil, kittenish Mihashi, naked apron cooking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 21:03:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16272296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Abe's put on a "little" weight as he's gotten older. He mentions trying to lose weight to Ren.The reaction is not what he anticipated.





	not an inexplicable change

**Author's Note:**

> A little Japanese food education:  
> Karage is Japanese fried chicken, it's very popular in Japan. You can find it in conbini's, any grocery store, and bento (often).  
> Chahan is Japanese style fried rice usually make with pork.  
> Bento is a Japanese lunch box made for children and spouses. It takes a lot of time to craft a good bento, not to mention how competitive some people in Japan are about the presentation and taste. Like other Japanese words, it's plural is the singular. There are many types of bento in Japan, for example.

_

Abe pauses in front of the mirror and does a double-take because for a moment he thought he saw his father in his house but— the pudgy silhouette was his though.

It’s not an inexplicable change in his body, he thinks as he slowly steps closer to the mirror and looks over the damage done. He’s a salaryman now, which means long hours sitting at a desk followed by a couple hour-long meeting, and then business breakfast, lunches or dinners at times. It’s no wonder he’s gotten… out of shape.

His hand slowly maps out the shape of his stomach, so much softer and larger than before. His gut has recently begun to hang over his pants His arms, once taut, woven muscle have degraded into loose flab and he looks at dismay at the dismal mound it flexes into.

If it isn’t the decadent business meals, then it’s definitely Ren’s cooking. The pitcher is overwhelmingly busy, but he has chosen to make up for his absence through the carefully and _expertly_ crafted bento he leaves Abe to take to work. He could give any housewife in Japan a run for her money, that’s how delicious the bento are. When he is home at night, Ren will often cook rich dinners for the two of them.

If Ren isn’t home, Abe tends to order out. He never really learned his way around the kitchen, and at the end of the day, with no Ren to curl around, he’d rather order something in and watch Ren pitch on the tv than putz about the kitchen.

 _‘Maybe I can ask Ren to stop making the bento,’_ Abe thinks, feeling the bump under his chin that IS NOT a double chin.

_‘Besides, he has to have noticed that I’ve gotten a little out of shape.’_

He turns in the mirror and his stomach turns with him, jiggling slightly.

“Maybe more than a little,” he admits out loud.

-

-

They bathe together often, Abe gets in the water first, much less elegantly these days. Tonight he notices with dismay that more water splashes out that a year ago. Ren is quick to join him, settling his back into Abe’s front, and when Abe feels his stomach expanding against his boyfriend’s lean back, he instinctively sucks in a breath.

Now would be a good time to mention it, he thinks, if he had the air to spare. It’s so obvious like this when Abe is naked and Ren can't avoid the subject.

But Ren doesn’t say anything about how much less space there is for him between Abe’s slowly plumpening thighs. Instead, Ren reaches a slim hand back and strokes up his leg until he reaches the base of Abe’s cock.

Abe releases the breath he was holding and his stomach expands and buts against Ren’s hand. His boyfriend gives a shudder and tightens his grasp on the base and strokes up.

Abe completely forgets to suck in his stomach as he turns over his attention to completely relishing everything Ren has to offer.

-

-

_

Two nights later, when Ren is standing over the stove in an apron, and Abe is leaning against the counter, Abe mentions the bento at the tail end of Ren’s meandering story about his team’s second baseman.

“Ren, I was thinking, maybe you should stop making bento for me. I don’t know how you have time to do that and also make it to practice.” Ren’s eye shift to him intently and Abe swallows “Aren’t you tired of it?”

Ren reaches an arm toward Abe and maneuvers him closer. Ren is still shorter than Abe, so he leans against the back of Abe’s shoulders and—not so much wraps, as rests his arm over Abe’s protruding gut.

“Not tired,” he says. And those golden eyes aren’t those of a man beleaguered by the burden of waking up an hour early to make Abe gourmet bentos every day, no those eyes are sharp and burning, like a low simmer.

Abe glances down, feeling oh-so-conscious of the how visible the swell beneath his chin must be from this angle as Ren shifts forward to be the smaller spoon so he can stir the skillet.

Abe wants to mention that’s he’s gotten really quite fat. He wants to ask _don’t you mind you’re sleeping with a pig_. He wants to say maybe Ren could do more vegetables in his bento instead of the fried karage. Eventually what he settles on is,

“I just think I’ve put on a little weight recently.”

It’s very understated, but hopefully, it’ll stop Ren from crying.

Ren doesn’t cry, instead, he blinks slowly and looks over Abe as if searching for a sign of what he’s talking about. Abe resists the urge to suck in his gut (not that he really can do much) and lets his stomach hang there like the elephant it feels like in the room.

Ren doesn’t show any outward reaction, just shifts his body back into Abe’s, glances up with eyes half-lidded.

“Does Takaya not like my bento anymore?”

“No, they taste great, as always, Ren—”

“Good.” Ren’s hand reaches up Abe’s softening chest first, and then to his chubbier cheeks.

“It’s just that—”

“I like that Takaya like them…” Ren says. “It makes me feel…”

Ren makes some inarticulate sound, the likes of which Abe has never been able to translate even after all these years of knowing him.

Ren’s long fingers reach below the apron and start unbuttoning his own shirt.

_

_

_

_

“Please, Ren, no more,” Abe pants. His words are breathy and weak even though his stomach is screaming at him to cease and desist. “I have to fly to Sapporo next Monday, I don’t have time to buy bigger clothes.” His belt has long since been undone and his pants unbuttoned to allow his swelling gut space, but even still it presses against the gaping constraints of his pants.

Ren sits seiza on the cushion beside Abe, naked aside from the apron, every inch a sexy cooking kitten who also pitches for an overtly masculine sports team. Only Abe gets to see him like this, and he likes it, perhaps he likes it too much, as his impromptu session feeling Ren up and watching him cook with his cock straining indecently against the apron was so hot he let Ren add extra pots and pans as he posed under Abe's gaze. Ren dragged the event out, cooking far more than he should have, and now Abe is leaning back to try and make more space in his stomach.

“Just a little…more.” Ren raises the fatty pork to his mouth, and Abe doesn’t have the energy to do anything but slowly open his mouth.

He can practically feel his stomach swelling and he makes a groan from the pain. Ren shivers and leans forward in his seiza.

“…shouldn’t waste,” Ren says, lifting another mouthful to Abe. Somehow Ren is panting now too, eyes intently on Abe’s mouth as he reluctantly opens it again for his boyfriend to shove the karage in there.

Abe is practically gasping as he chews and swallows.

“…good?” Ren asks.

“It’s always good, but, Ren—” Abe starts, Ren takes his open mouth as an invitation to shove tempura into his mouth. Abe chews the fried batter, barely being able to savor the taste over the pain in his stomach.

Chahan follows, with enough pork, egg and rice for three people on top of the other entrees Abe had eaten. Ren barely finished his own portion before he began pushing food on Abe, and Abe has never known how to deal with Ren when he gets like this.

After everything is finally eaten, Abe is almost supine.

He’s never gone this far before, eaten so much in one sitting in his life. The steady throb in his stomach is almost too much.

Then, Ren is there, straddling Abe’s chubby thighs and grinding against the heft of his stomach. Abe looks up at Ren, watches his lithe muscles flex, the sweat gathering at his hairline as he twists his hips against Abe.

His pitching hand traces the exaggerated curve of Abe’s stomach before he rubs deeply.

Abe moans in pain, certain that he is moments away from popping when the pain abruptly shifts into relief as his stomach starts to settle with each long stroke of Ren’s hand.

Ren hasn’t stopped rutting against Abe, but the difference is now Abe isn’t in overwhelming pain, and he feels himself stirring in the pants he unbuttoned twenty minutes ago.

There’s something wrong with this, Abe is certain. Ren shouldn’t be so eager and writhing against the _fat_ Abe has accumulated, and yet here they are. Ren’s hands move to shift down Abe’s pants, needing to really yank them off his expanded waist and burgeoning backside.

One hand resumes its massage on his stomach, and the other reaches beneath his ponderous stomach to stroke eagerly at Abe’s cock, and Abe isn’t sure which one makes him sigh.

Between Ren’s clumsy pleasure seeking and the pain/pleasure Abe feels, Abe doesn’t last long before he comes with a long groan that’s something between blinding ache and something else.

Ren soon comes after him, following with a high-pitched keen, making little splatters all over Abe’s swollen stomach and thighs.

-

-

-

_

_

As Abe lies flat on his back after Ren cleaned both of them up, his distended gut heavy over his chest.

Ren’s hand rests oddly possessively on Abe’s thigh as he sleeps soundly.

Maybe Abe will look into losing weight on his own… there’s no need to bother Ren with this again.

He tells himself the odd feeling in his chest must be indigestion.


End file.
